If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (75 page)

She nods as if she understands. I guess she’d have some idea.

“Our house was like a funeral. My mom’s the one that held our family together. The thought of not having her killed me and my dad,” I say honestly.

“He was stronger than I was, but I could tell it hurt him and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I couldn’t cry because I felt empty and lost, completely lost. No one could bring me out of what I can only describe as barely living.”

“The only time I left the house was to go see my mom at the University Hospital. Jenna goes to school near there,” I explain hesitantly. She nods, encouraging me to go on. I sigh.

“We went to high school together but we didn’t really know each other then, you know? She saw me and spoke to me but I didn’t answer. I guess I was in a daze or something and she thought I was being rude so she started yelling at me,” I explain. Lauren looks at me, a little confused.

“Before that, I stopped seeing people. I was in a fog that I couldn’t shake and I started laughing at her. At that point I hadn’t laughed in months.”

Lauren nods, a small smile on her face.

“I’m glad you had someone there for you,” she says softly.

“We were friends for a whole year. I couldn’t be with anyone while my mom was sick.” I shrug.

“When did you start dating?” she asks curiously.

“About five months ago, once the doctors said my mom was in remission,” I say, still hating to even say the word ‘cancer’ aloud.

“Jenna pushed me to not sit around being miserable. I went back to school, finished my degree and started working again. If it weren’t for her not letting me feel sorry for myself, believing the world was ending, I don’t know what would have happened,” I say honestly. Lauren’s gaze returns to her glass.

“Jenna can come off different than how she really is. I don’t know what she said out there but... she just feels… threatened” I say with a sigh.

She picks up her glass and finishes half of it. “Are you excited about tonight?” she says, changing the subject.

“No. I hate these things,” I admit.

“Your tie,” she says quietly, gesturing to it.

I laugh. “I feel like a valet parker,”

There’s a grin, a small one, but it’s there. I’ll take it.

“It’s too dark for your suit. Do you have any other colors?” she asks.

“Yeah, not a lot but I just picked one that matched,” I say honestly. She laughs, and my heart skips a beat.

“I can help you, if you want,” she says hesitantly.

“Please!” I beg.

She lets out a light laugh. “Okay,” she giggles. I head up the stairs and she follows me. Once we make it to my room, I flip the light on and walk over to my drawer where I have about seven or eight ties my mom bought. I sense her behind me and I move out of the way so she can look through them.

“Sorry, you don’t have much to work with,” I say and she smiles up at me.

“Do you have any other suits?” she asks. She must really not like this one. I nod and walk to the closet, showing her the other choices.

“I think the black,” she says with a shrug.

She goes back to my tie drawer and picks up a red one. My mom bought it for me for Christmas last year.

“You’re sure?” I ask skeptically.

“Trust me,” she says with a grin.

“Okay. I’ll be right back,” I say. I head to the bathroom, change into the black suit and reappear. She’s sitting on my bed leaning on a pillow. She looks so comfortable, like she belongs in it.

“Actually, do you have another shirt? The collar on this one looks a little weird,” she says with a grin. I laugh, walk over to my closet where my collared shirts are and she stands beside me. She shuffles through them, pulls one out and inspects it. “Can I see the tie again?”

I hand it to her. She puts it near the shirt and gives a nod of approval.

“Okay,” I say skeptically. I start to unbutton my shirt and there’s a moment where I wonder if I should turn around or if she’ll leave the room.

She doesn’t. She actually folds her arms as if waiting for me to change.

So I do.

She glances around the room so as not to stare. I quickly remove the other shirt and throw on the one she chose. She’s staring at her feet but I catch her glancing up at me before she quickly looks away.

That makes me smile and I have to bite my tongue to stop. I don’t know how successful I am. After I button my shirt, I throw the tie around the collar and knot it.

“How about now?” I say, doing my best GQ pose, and she bursts into laughter.

“You tied it all wrong,” she says, stepping toward me. The closer she gets, the more difficult it is to breathe, I think my temperature has suddenly gone up. She keeps her eyes on my tie. I
want
her to look up at me but I’m praying she doesn’t.

That line between us, the one that’s supposed to be thick and wide, is getting just a little thinner. She’s probably done this for
him
a thousand times but that doesn’t explain why her cheeks are flushed. Each time her fingers brush against my chest I feel anxious, calm, nervous and excited all at once.

It’s taking every ounce of self control to keep my arms at my sides. I draw on every ounce of determination to stamp out the urge to wrap my arms around the small of her back, pull her against me and kiss her lips that are barely open, but begging me to taste them.

This isn’t good…

When she finishes, she steps away from me, and I let out a breath, hopefully not an obvious one. She grabs my jacket and hands it to me.

“For the full effect,” she says lightly. I laugh to release some of my nervousness. She’s shifting her weight back and forth. When I look in the mirror, I have to say I look much more put together, more comfortable, and for a minute, I wonder if I look like
him.

“Much better,” she says as she looks at my reflection in the mirror.

“Thank you,” I say, and she nods as she heads out.

“Lauren.”

She turns back towards me.

“Did you do this for
me
a lot?”

She pauses and a reminiscent smile spreads across her face. “He wouldn’t let me anywhere near his ties.” She snickers before leaving the room. I can’t help but smile to myself. That means that’s a first.

My first with Lauren that Cal
didn’t
have.

The fund raiser is exactly what I thought it would be. Boring, long speeches, bad food, dull conversation, and stale jokes. I want to crawl out of my suit and hang myself with my tie. At least the suit was a hit; Jenna even complimented me on it. My stomach’s growling, my mom didn’t let me have seconds of her meatloaf since I was coming here. And tonight’s main course is Salmon. Fish is the one thing I don’t like, especially when it looks undercooked.

“You can try to look a little interested,” Jenna whispers in my ear. I give her a guilty smile. This is the second, maybe third, long-winded speech that’s been given in the last twenty minutes, and I’m doing my best not to fall asleep.

“Go get some air,” she says, giving me a squeeze on the shoulder before pecking me on the cheek. I avoid looking at her dad’s best friend. He’s been giving me dirty looks all night. Her dad probably gave him the task of making sure I feel unwelcome since he couldn’t be here to do it himself. I get up and make my way across the midsized ball room they’ve rented. I glance at my phone to check the time.

9:20 p.m.

I’ve only been here forty minutes, but it feels like hours. This thing is probably going to last until at least 11:00 p.m. I’m almost at the door when one of the servers nearly bumps into me.

“Excuse me,” she says quickly before dodging me with a tray full of champagne glasses. Suddenly, my vision is blurry and there’s a ringing in my ears.

When things come into focus I’m no longer in the same midsized ballroom at a medical fundraiser. There are still people everywhere, but there’s a live band on stage and a huge banner that says “Crestfield Cares” with silver and black balloons everywhere. It’s happening again. I’m remembering and I see
him.
He makes his way inside a private room. It’s a large office looking out over the downstairs ballroom. Dexter’s there, drink in hand.

“What’d you want to talk about, Dex?”
he
asks, amused. He’s walked over to the window where you can see down over the entire floor.

“I never thought I’d see you like this, Cal. So enamored,” Dexter says, a smug grin on his face.

“I’m not really an ‘enamored’ type of guy,” Cal jokes as he looks downstairs over the party. His gaze immediately finds Lauren. She’s in a short grey dress that fits her like a glove, her long hair is pulled over her shoulder.

“Like the dress? I picked it out,” he replies, his eyes roving over her as she makes small talk with a group of women. She glances up at him and he winks at her, she blows him a kiss.

“I’ve never argued that fact.” He laughs. “You have excellent taste,” Dexter adds.

“However, I’m starting to worry that she’s not just an infatuation anymore,” he says tightly.

“That’s because she’s not. I told you that, Dex,” he says, his irritation apparent.

“I didn’t think you meant it,” Dexter chuckles.

“You’ve run through more women than red lights.” Dexter’s tone is playful, but his expression is stern. Cal turns away from the window and leans against it, his arms folded across his chest.

“I’m asking her to marry me,” he states bluntly. Dexter’s face is blank. He’s quiet as he walks over to the large desk and sits behind it. He folds his hands and lets out a deep breath.

“I can’t allow you to do that, Cal,” he says quietly, and I begin to laugh.

Cal’s reply is sharp. “I think you need to remind yourself who you’re talking to before saying bullshit like that to me.”

“Cal, marriage is an entirely different animal. It’s not something you’ll be able to hide or take back,” he says, looking me in the eye.

“I’m not stupid. I know how marriage works. I’m doing it. I love her,” he says simply. Dexter shakes his head and takes a long sip of his drink. “I’m going to need you to back me up on this. I want it to be legitimate,” he says seriously and Dexter laughs. He walks closer to him, looking him directly in the eye.

“I’m serious, Dexter” he says pointedly.

“So you’re planning on telling her the truth?” Dexter counters. Cal scowls at him.

“Of course you’re not.” He laughs mockingly.

“I’m quite impressed that you’ve been able to pull off some version of a serious relationship. I must give you that. But a marriage, to be able to pull that off with your condition, and without telling her the truth, you would have to be Houdini,” he spits bitterly, rising from his desk and pouring himself another drink. Cal walks towards him.

“You’re right,” he says and patting Dexter on the back.

“She’s just my plaything. I’m going to go play with her now,” he says sarcastically.

“Let’s not worry about any of this now. It’s a party. Eat, drink, and be merry!” He says boisterously. Dexter frowns.

“Maybe I won’t marry her. You know me, always kidding around, since my life is a big fucking joke!”

“Cal, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to keep things fair,” Dexter says tightly.

“Why don’t you stop playing fucking referee for a minute and know that I need this!” he shouts at him. “I
need
her,” and I can hardly believe it, but Dexter’s expression shows a hint of sympathy. Cal turns away and heads out of the office. He starts to open the door but turns around before he does.

“Let’s not forget, between the two of us,
I’m
the one keeping secrets for you. Not him. Don’t get on my bad side, Dex. It’s not a good place to be,” he warns before slamming the door. He heads down a long corridor where people are drinking and dancing. It seems like forever before he gets to Lauren, who’s walking around the party trying to look interested, an almost empty champagne glass in her hand. He slips his arms around her waist. She looks up at him, and smiles seductively.

“Let’s go,” he says. She snakes her arms around his neck, giggling. “How many glasses of champagne did you have?” he asks her and she looks up as if she’s thinking.